Chapter 9

"When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind."

R.J. Palacio.

Immediately, my face turns pale, my vision blurring and body uncontrollably trembling. My hearing disappears, turning into a sonorous buzz and my heavy breathing causes me to break out in sweat. I bite my lip, tears welling up I'm my eyes, my chest aching, face turning red in anger and the struggle of having to withdraw my sadness. Guilt creeps up on me, weighing me down. All the cruel remarks, mean comments and disgusted glares I've received vanish at the magnitude of the problem I'm facing.

"How could he?" I think. "How could he tell me to open up and be honest about my true feelings, when he's hiding something so huge? Something to do with his mental health?!"

That's when I come up with an idea. My username doesn't contain my real name and my profile pic and photos in my gallery definitely do not contain any pictures of me. Therefore, if I send Wyatt a friend request, he'll think it's a random stranger that will want nothing but to befriend him. The problem is, will he accept?

I'll never know if I don't try.

Sending the request and nibbling my nails in anticipation, I wait for a notification to appear, telling me that he's accepted it. After a while, I'm about to log out but the message does show up and I'm pleased with the outcome.

He's accepted.

Instantly, I d.m. Wyatt, typing a simple 'hey' to start the conversation. When three dots bounce around my screen, I tap my foot on the floor of my room and open the window in need of fresh air.

'Hey', he texts back. 'Why did u d.m. me?'

"Holy snap," I think, "it's over!"

Calming myself down, I type back:

'I saw ur Facebook page. U seemed interesting.'

Later, I get a response saying:

'I just scrolled through urs. I like the pics you take of different places.'

Oh, by the way, because I don't like taking pictures of myself, I photograph landscapes and edit them to get likes. Surprisingly, I actually have a lot of followers. And yes, I know if they saw who was behind the camera, they would all bully me. That's why I don't take selfies. So that at least on social media, I can do what I please. Without being tormented.

'Thx. I like ur pics 2.'

'That's really nice of u 2 say. I bet behind the camera ur a rlly great person xoxo.'

Reading the text, I blush and look away. Of course he just flirted with me. Oh wait, he's not flirting with me. He's flirting with a person who he thinks isn't anything like me.

"Don't get distracted," I think. "Let's ask him the question I've been planning to ask and get this over with."

'Hey, just out of curiosity, why do u wear long sleeves in every pic?'

Even though we're not face to face, I can tell that he's gone quiet from the way that it's been five minutes since I've asked the question and I still haven't gotten a response. I can also tell that he's gone quiet from the hesitation. The three dots appear ever so often and disappear just as quickly.

'Promise u won't tell anyone?'

"This has taken an unexpected turn. Let's do it!"

'Sure xoxo.'

'I slit my wrists,' he confirms over text.

"I knew it!" I exclaim.

However, all I text back is:

'Why?"

'Ik what ur thinking. From the photos I post, I have everything. Good friends, amazing parents and overall a spectacular life. But I recently just got out of a toxic relationship and I thank my dad 4 that because if we hadn't moved here, I'd still be with the girl.'

'So u slit ur wrists 2 numb the pain?'

"In short, yes.'

It all hits me like a truck, taking my breath away and messing with my heartstrings. Wyatt, toxic relationship?

'Why did u stay in the relationship 4 so long?'

'Like every toxic relationship, the victim is manipulated.'

And that's when I ask the ultimate question.

'Why r u so open 2 tell me this?'

'Well 1, bc u asked.'

I snort. Classic Wyatt.

"And 2, bc u r an approachable person. An easy 2 talk 2 person.'

'But we just met.'

"Is he serious?" I think. "Is he ok?"

'Well, the thing is, u remind me of a girl Ik.'

'A girl?'

'Yh.'

'What's her name?' I ask.

And the reply I get, throws me off.

'Valentina.'